


Unthinkable

by briancap



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Gore, Dark, Dismemberment, F/M, Gutting, Past Abuse, Torture, Unhappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:16:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1753921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briancap/pseuds/briancap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Women, the gentler sex, and how easy they are to break.</p><p>A collection of stories about the women of Westeros, and how they broke.<br/>1. Sansa/Petyr<br/>2. Ramsay/Jeyne<br/>3. Cersei/Aegon</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broken Bird (Sansa/Petyr)

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired to write this by the 8th episode of season 4. When Sansa stood before the Lords and lied about Lysa's death.

He watches her, from the side of his eyes. Her Tully blue eyes, so like her mother's, do not flinch or blink at the sight in front of him. The young Robert Arryn lays dying, writhing in agony as the sickness spreads over his body, sucking the life out of him. Sansa watches silently, eyes void of any emotion and Petyr can't help but smile.

  
Ever since Lysa had died, Petyr had spent all the time he had, to teach and train Sansa. He taught her how to lie, how to get what you wanted from others, but he hadn't taught her how to hate. That is something she learned from the Lannisters in King's Landing.

  
The Lannister's had broken her, but Petyr had remade her. She would never be whole again. There were to many pieces that were lost through pain and betrayal, but he did his best to tie the remaining pieces together.

  
As Robert takes his last painful breath, tears rolling down his young face, he still watches her, waiting for a reaction. As always, he gets none, her eyes remain empty. He had ordered her to put the poison in the boy's drink the day before, and she had simply looked at him and accepted the poison, without a word.

  
It had pleased him greatly to see what the innocent Sansa had become and so he turned to her and placed his hands upon her slender waist. His hands began to move upward, touching her growing breasts, then sliding over her neck. She doesn't react to his touch, it's as if, she doesn't even feel it. He pushes forward and kisses her on the mouth.

  
Her hands began to touch him, as gently as a lover, removing his cloak, then his doublet. Everything she does is practiced and planned just for him. He pushes the boy's dead body on the floor and lays her down beneath him.

  
“Sansa.” He says, breathing into her ear. “Tell me, who does your loyalty lie with?”

  
Her blue eyes meet his own and she responds, “You.”

  
“And who do you listen to?”

  
“You.” She says, as he pushes up her dress and mover her small clothes out of the way.

  
“And what can I do to you?”

  
“Anything you want.”

  
“Good girl.” He says, then pushes into her. She holds him as he thrusts against her, but once again it is all just an illusion, something done out of habit rather than ecstasy.

 

X

  
She stands to his left, quietly. The battle for Winterfell, has been raging on for hours. Men lay dying, screaming, pleading for mercy, as the swords come down and spills more blood onto the snow. She doesn't move, just stands there, watching with empty eyes. The fake Arya Stark, stands to his right, her own eyes even emptier. Her years of being a used and abused puppet, has left her without any emotion. She doesn't hate, love, fear, or regret, she just exists.

He will kill her in the future. He had known her and Sansa were best friends since they were little girls. Perhaps he would have Sansa do the deed. Kill her own friend with a sword in the heart, just to see if he can get a reaction from her, more than likely he won't get one.

  
The battle has ended, and Winterfell now belongs to Sansa. She sits quietly on her father's bed, back straight, and hands in her lap.

  
He calls her over to him, and she obediently comes to him.

  
“I have won.” He drinks wine from the cellars, with his feet up, on the desk that used to belong to her father.

  
“Yes, you have.”

  
“Everything is mine?”

  
“Yes.”

  
“Even you?”

  
“Yes.”

  
He smiles, the mocking bird on his chest gleaming ever brighter. He stands and moves behind her, wrapping his arms around her slender waist.

  
“Rule Westeros with me.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Broken Child (Ramsay/Jeyne)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite pairing ever.

Her back was straight in the saddle, her hands holding the reins gently. Her eyes were fixed on the scene before her.

 

On the naked woman on the ground, screaming and crying out in pain as the men raped her then skinned her alive.

 

Once, a very long time ago, she would have felt pity for her, but she didn't know what that feeling was anymore.

 

It had been a long time since she felt anything, she had been a different person but now she is Arya, always Arya. Theon had tried to be the brave hero in the books she liked to read but it didn't work. When Ramsay had caught them, his torture before had seemed like a caress compared to what the two of them went through.

 

As the hunt came to a close, her husband rode beside her.

 

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asked, blood speckles on his face, and gore on his clothes.

 

“Yes, My lord, it was very entertaining.” Came the reply, the same reply as the last, when he asked if she enjoyed the show.

 

The hunts no longer bothered her, nothing did. Not when Ramsay raped her, not when she took him in her mouth, or when he made her watch him butchering women.

 

This wasn't Jeyne Poole, it was Arya Bolton.

 

X

 

Reek lays his head down on her lap, the way a mother holds her child. She rubs his hair in a comforting manner, but the touch isn't out of kindness or love, she just does it.

 

The eye Ramsay didn't pluck out, looks up at her, not really seeing. He is the same as her, an empty shell, lost in a world of pain, both ready to die or just forget.

 

Her son, Raymond, sleeps silently in his cradle. It had taken her a whole day to bring him in the world. When the maids placed the infant in her arms, she felt neither happiness or sadness, just an indifference.

 

He was so small, as small as Walda's child had been, when she killed him. The baby had been Walda's first child by Roose, and it was the biggest threat to Ramsay. He decided to let her kill the child herself. The first time she couldn't bring her self to do it, no matter what Ramsay threatened, but after a while it wasn't hard anymore.

 

Each child Walda birthed, Arya killed. It was like a routine. Walda would become pregnant, and nine months later, an innocent would be born, but before the baby could reach one, he would die, by Arya's hands while Ramsay watched.

 

Sometimes, Ramsay would bring a serving girl in the room and make Arya torture her to death. Her screams would fill the chamber, along with her blood and guts.

After each time she tortured someone, Ramsay would always be hard and ready to fuck. The serving girl's blood provided great lubrication for Arya's dry cunt and painted Ramsay's cock an amazing shade of red. As Ramsay would shove into her, Arya would scream, a reaction she planned for Ramsay's sick enjoyment.

 

X

 

It was snowing lightly, but light snow only meant heavier snow was about to fall. The ground crunched beneath her feet as she walked towards the cowering woman. Her arms were bound behind her back, while her feet were tied together by rope, but her mouth wasn't gagged.

 

“Please, please, don't do this. I haven't done anything wrong.” The woman, not really a woman, but child cried. The cry fell on deaf ears, Arya took the dagger Ramsay had given her, and began to slice the woman's dress off.

 

Once she was completely nude, Arya turned to look at Ramsay, awaiting his command.

 

He smiled. “Cut her down the middle and pull her guts out.”

 

Without a moment's hesitation, Arya plunger her blade into the soft flesh of the woman's stomach, slicing downwards, then reached her hand into the wound and pulled out her warm, slimy entrails.

 

She thrashed, screamed, and cried, but it did nothing to save her. Once the woman stopped moving, Arya stood up and faced her lord. He held his hand out and she placed the bloody dagger into his palm. He pulled her close, not minding the blood that was staining his clothes, and kissed her.

 

“You did a fine job, my beautiful wife.” He kissed the tip of her head, then turned to get on his horse. Arya did the same, but before they left the woods, she turned over her shoulder and gave the woman one last look.

 

At least now, she didn't have to kill anymore babies.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Cersei Lannister.


	3. Chapter 3

She holds him in his arms like any mother would do, before handing him over to the new King. The King grabs his plump shoulders and holds him still, as the blonde woman pulls out a golden sword.

  
In a flash of love and hate, pity and loathing and emptiness, she beheads him. The young head falls to the floor. The curls that rival the sun, are soon stained red, along with the crown.

  
Cersei takes a moment longer to look at her youngest son and Aegon can see that if anything was left inside her, it has died.

  
Aegon had taken the city with ease, he had taken the former queen even easier, something that truly made him angry. He didn't want her to be submissive, he wanted her to be a fighter, someone he could break into pieces, but after the death of Myrcella, Cersei had broke.

  
X

  
She stands beside him, her arm bleeding but she pays no heed to it, her green eyes are focused on nothing but the battle. The blood, the dying, the hate.

  
Jaime lays in a puddle of his own blood, his face reads shock. He never thought Cersei would kill him.

  
Kevan Lannister is on the ground, with his intestines trailing on the dirt road. He never thought Cersei was so mad as to kill her own kin.

  
Lancel is at their feet, his hand torn off and throat ripped out. He never thought Cersei was so fast or so strong.

  
Qyburn was split into two, down the middle, as easy as slicing butter. He never thought his creation would kill him.

  
The Kettleback brothers are impaled upon spears, with their bowels being torn open and leaking onto the battlefield. They never thought period.

  
The Tyrells left the city, an agreement forged between them. Neither thought they could triumph over the other without the other's death.

  
As the fighting goes on and on, he motions to Cersei. She moves as quickly as a lioness and pushes her knife into the back of his skull and through his mouth. The High Septon never thought a broken lioness could still kill.

  
Aegon laughs and laughs, seeing the dead bodies on the ground. He places his hand on Cersei's shoulder and she obediently stills underneath his touch.

  
The dragon has captured the lioness and he laughs.

  
A few days later he takes a long look outside. The corpses still haven't lost all of their flesh and he can see who they were. He smiles at a particular corpse, and points to it. Cersei's green eyes follow his finger to her dead brother, but her eyes doesn't give nothing away.

  
Even though her face remains blank, Aegon can tell that she is memorizing every line on his face, every golden curl on his head, and every wound she made upon his body.

  
“He betrayed you, he abandoned you.” He whispers to her. Cersei doesn't even flinch. Aegon remembers when those words use to cut her as deeply as a knife. He remembers her begging, her crying, her sobbing that it wasn't true; that her precious baby brother and lover would never do that.

  
That is the best part, Aegon thinks with a smile. The best part is that she remembers. She remembers being a queen, being a mother, and now, she remembers destroying her other half. With the death of Jaime at her hands, Cersei is no longer whole, but that is alright. Aegon has given her the bloody crown of Tommen Baratheon, along with the bloody sword of Jaime Lannister.

With those two things, along with the torture and death of Margaery Tyrell, Cersei is made whole again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment. Next, Ramsay and Jeyne.


End file.
